Author's Note: This is my try at a story about mailgirls - a daffy and delightful subgenre of exhibitionist stories that started a few years ago. Some of what I've done in this story is new, but some of the concepts have been borrowed and/or adapted from the mailgirl stories that have come before mine. So, I wanted to give thanks and credit to Literotica authors that have explored this subgenre before me (and to recommend that you read their stories, too): Seahawk76, Lizstanton8181, Periculafabula17, CorbinC, and Nynah, among others. Their stories have entertained and inspired me. I hope you enjoy my contribution to this theme.
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"You could be a mailgirl."
Shanaya's jaw dropped. She couldn't believe what her best friend, Kimmy, had just said to her.
"What do you mean, I could be a mailgirl? Are you crazy? I didn't graduate with an honors degree in accounting to be a mailgirl. Come on, Kimmy. I'm desperate, but I'm not that desperate."
Shanaya and Kimmy sat in front of Shanaya's computer in her apartment. They'd spent the last hour searching the Internet for jobs for Shanaya. The economy was bad and job prospects were bleak. Shanaya had been laid off six weeks earlier from the accounting firm she'd worked at for the last two years. She'd been looking frantically for a new job ever since, but with no luck.
"I can't believe you suggested that," said Shanaya. "You're not serious, right? I'm not the mailgirl type. Look at me. I'm sure they want buxom, blond bimbos for that job. That's not me."
"From what I hear," said Kimmy, "That's not true. They look for all types, and right now they're looking for women who don't fit the usual stereotypes. You definitely do not fit the bimbo stereotype."
That much was true. Shanaya was no blond bimbo. She was the daughter of a half-Indian father and an Irish-American mother. She got dusky skin and long, luxurious black hair from her father, and piercing sky-blue eyes from her mother. The combination was arresting. Shanaya didn't look like anyone else she'd ever met, and even though she usually dressed modestly she often got double-takes.
"Come on, Kimmy," Shanaya said. "Be serious. I need a job. I REALLY need a job. You know I've got tons of student loans and I'm way behind paying them off. I've gotten, like, three debt collection letters in the last two weeks."
Shanaya's debts were huge. During her freshman year of college her father, sued by an unscrupulous business partner, had lost everything. Shanaya had to scramble to get loans to pay for the rest of her education at a prestigious, private university. She worked several jobs, too, but it wasn't enough. The debt piled up, and by the time she graduated she was buried under financial obligations to several creditors, some of whom were now aggressively pursuing her to get paid.
"Shanaya, you're my best friend," Kimmy said. "You know I love you. You're one of the smartest people I know. But you know something else? I know you don't believe this, but you're also beautiful. You're hot. Guys stare at you. You might not know that. From what I hear, this company is looking for mailgirls who are beautiful in a different way. And that's you.
"I'm not saying it should be your career. But the economy is bad and there aren't a lot of jobs, and - who knows? - it might be a way to make some money while things are bad. To get you through the bad time. Until you can get a better job. I have a friend named Emily who has a friend who did it for a while, and according to Emily she made a lot of money. Like, a LOT of money. You'd be surprised."
"Yeah, I would be surprised," said Shanaya. She paused. "So what do you mean by a lot of money?"
Kimmy gave her a number.
Shanaya's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, again. The number Emily cited was comparable to what she'd been making as an associate with the prestigious accounting firm she'd worked at before. She wondered how that was possible.
Nothing made any sense. Shanaya had worked her butt off her whole life, always getting straight As. She'd wanted to make her parents proud, and, besides that, she always had high standards for herself. From an early age, she was a math whiz. Accounting was a natural choice for a career. She earned her way into one of the best universities in the country, aced its accounting program, and graduated with offers from some of the best firms in the country. Her family had beamed with pride when she accepted an offer with Morton Leeds, one of the world's biggest and most prestigious accounting firms. For two years, things had gone great.
And then the economy tanked. Accounting firms like hers had been hit hard. Business dried up. People were being laid off. Shanaya had been a good employee, always meeting her hours requirements and pleasing the clients, but it did no good. When the shit hit the fan, the youngest employees bore the brunt of the shit. And Shanaya was still young. One day, she got called into the office of a senior member to get the bad news. She couldn't believe it. All that education, and all that hard work, and she was being shown the door.
She cried that night, and for a few days afterward, but soon she collected herself and looked for other opportunities. The problem was, there were no opportunities. Accounting firms like her former employer were firing, not hiring. There were no jobs to be had.
She widened the scope of her job search, sending letters to second-tier and third-tier accounting firms. No responses. She sent emails and left voice mail messages for different kinds of businesses, hoping they might have a place for someone with her impressive background. Still no responses. In the meantime, she earned no money. But rent came due, and bills piled up. And the student debt holders began coming after her. Shanaya was in a tough spot, and it was getting more and more difficult to see a way out of it. Her family was no help. Dad was broke and being sued. Her friend Kimmy offered moral support, but she was an elementary school teaching assistant and had no money to give.
Kimmy tried to encourage Shanaya, telling her how talented she was and how she was sure to succeed but that she had to think outside the box to get through the hard times. In the back of her mind, though, Shanaya couldn't stop worrying about her dire predicament. If she couldn't earn some money and pay rent, she'd be evicted soon. She couldn't imagine that. Her only recourse would be to live with her parents. To a smart, ambitious young woman like Shanaya, that would be as good as admitting she'd been defeated in life. She couldn't bear the thought of that.
Shanaya's reverie was interrupted when she realized Kimmy was saying something.
"What?" Shanaya asked.
"I said, let's get some information," Kimmy said. Kimmy's fingers tapped at the computer keyboard. She went online and researched "mailgirls." Together, Shanaya and Kimmy gathered what information they could about the mailgirl program.
Shanaya discovered that the mailgirl program had started in Japan, the brainchild of an offbeat entrepreneur named Yakuso Wakisame, a self-proclaimed expert in the field of employee productivity. He was 40-something, an out-of-the-box thinker looking to strike it rich with the next big thing. He came up with the idea that corporate productivity could be enhanced by spicing up the work environment with erotic stimulation - specifically, with attractive, skimpily dressed women delivering the mail and performing other, assorted mundane office tasks that no one ever noticed before. He assembled a team of academics from elite universities across Japan. They conducted surveys and tests, and to everyone's surprise the tests proved Wakisame was right: the presence of skimpily dressed women carrying mail and performing similar tasks significantly raised office productivity. The mailgirl program caught on, and it was adopted by many companies in Japan. Wakisame became a rich man.
The program was still new in America, and the results of the program were still uncertain. In Shanaya's city, the program was dominated by Intex Corporation, a corporate personnel services firm with offices around the country. Intex hired mailgirls and contracted with companies throughout the city to have their mailgirls perform their tasks while dressed in outrageously skimpy outfits.
It seemed weird to Shanaya that the program was even legal, let alone tolerated. She couldn't understand how the mailgirl program could survive challenges from sexual harassment attorneys and feminist advocates. But, somehow, it had. So far, anyway. The bad economy had something to do with it, no doubt. With unemployment rising and jobs scarce and profits falling, both business and political leaders were willing to adjust their thinking to accommodate unusual programs to boost the economy in any way possible.
"Let's see if they have any job openings," said Kimmy.
"Kimmy, come on," Shanaya said. "There's no way they'd want me, and there's no way I'd do it even if they did. Which they don't. This is pointless."
"You don't know unless you search," Kimmy said.
Kimmy pulled up the intex.com web page. She clicked on the page for "employment opportunities." There it was: a subheading for "mailgirls."
They scanned the web page in front of them. Intex was hiring. They had a few slots open for new mailgirls. The hiring page promised "outstanding compensation", although it didn't say just how much that was. At the bottom of the page was a link to an online application form.
"Let's fill it out," said Kimmy. "Come on. You have nothing to lose."
